


So Don't Let Go

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, So much fluff you may pass out tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not the first time, and definitely not the last Michael has to carry a sleeping Luke somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Don't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> based off of this [fanart](http://unofficialrockstar.tumblr.com/post/114760509940) that made me cry  
> dedicated & requested by my one and only [adele](http://lorastyrels.tumblr.com). happy (early) birthday, loser. i love you so much.

Luke’s the last one into the van but the first one to try and shut the rest of the world out. After a show usually everyone’s still feeling a bit of the buzz-- a little giddy still, giggling at stupid things just because of the adrenaline rush. But typically, within about half an hour or so the tiredness of working at high-energy for hours starts to catch up with them. Their voices sound a little shot from singing, their arms and fingers ache a little, their moods, in general, become a little sluggish. But tonight Luke went from energized to completely exhausted in record time.

He sat lazily with his head resting on the seat as he watched Ashton and Calum laughing at something on Calum’s phone. Calum pointed to something on the screen, then looked over at Ashton with wild, excited eyes, and then back at the screen. Luke, being as naturally curious as he is, wanted to know what they were laughing at. He had an aborted thought to push himself across the seat to gaze at the screen for a moment, but the idea of closing his eyes seemed like an entirely better option.

The van starts up, some new pop song plays on the radio, and somehow it becomes the perfect lullaby. Within minutes of driving, Luke’s slid down on the seat, lying completely onto one side. He tells himself that he’s only resting his eyes. The hotel, he thinks sluggishly to himself, is only about fifteen minutes away. He thinks, I can make it.

But despite his intentions, he’s asleep exactly forty-three seconds later.

Gradually, the van gets quieter and quieter until everyone’s completely silent. Calum has put his phone away and slid closer to his window, resting his head on the cool glass and watching his breath make fog on it as he breathes out. Ashton’s put his headphones on and was playing a slow R&B song Michael was sure had to be from the mid-90s. Michael sat slouched in his seat, switching from gazing mindlessly out the window and down at Luke every few minutes. The silence was only broken once when Calum says softly in Michael’s direction, “You should wake him up soon.” He gestures with his head down at Luke then says, “We’re almost there,” as he replaces his head on the glass and focuses his eyes on something across the street.

Michael nods, says, “Yeah, okay,” but doesn’t move. He doesn’t see the harm in waiting until they get to the hotel to wake him up. Especially considering Luke will probably fall back asleep if he woke him up now.

Sixteen and a half minutes later, their van is pulling up to the back of their hotel. By now, everyone’s mood has calmed completely. They’ve been sitting in silence, looking out for their respective windows since the last time Michael and Calum spoke. Everyone except Luke who’s still sprawled out on the van’s seat beside Michael, taking up most of the space. Michael doesn’t mind though. He never minds, even when he complains and acts like he does.

The van door slides open, letting in the cool night air, shocking Michael’s system. He blinks twice, shivers a little, and sits up in his seat as he watches Ashton slide out of the van and make his way toward the back of the van. He grabs his bag and Calum’s bag before walking toward the hotel without a word. Calum follows closely behind Ashton, but stops once he gets one leg out of the van. He looks back at Luke and then up at Michael before mumbling again with a little irritation in his tone for having to repeat himself, “Wake him up,” and leaving the van.

Michael moves to the other side of the van and sits in the middle seat across from Luke. He reaches out and rubs Luke’s shoulder gently. “Hey,” he calls in a whisper, “we’re at the hotel.”

He waits a few seconds and when Luke doesn’t budge he tries again; a little more force in the way he shakes Luke’s shoulder. Michael calls, “Luke, come on. It’s time to wake up.”

This time Luke makes a noise, a confused type of groan escaping his mouth as he lifts a few of his fingers like he’s thinking about pushing Michael’s hand away. His fingers relax not even a second later, not awake enough to finish the action. He sighs and pushes his head back against his arm. Michael smiles a little as he pulls at Luke’s shirt. It’s enough to make Luke lift his head, and Michael sees his eyes open up just a centimeter or two, squinting in his direction.

“Wha--?” Luke tries to ask as he brings his hand up to his eyes to rub them. His voice is weak and strained and it almost doesn’t sound like him at all. He looks over at Michael but it’s like he’s not really seeing him, still squinting with a confused expression on his face. His eyes close for a second and his head sways, then they open again a little, trying to focus his vision on Michael.

Through a growing smile, Michael asks, “You gonna walk?”

It takes Luke a moment to respond; his brain working slower than usual, fogged up with tiredness. A few seconds later though, he nods, and even musters up a weak “Mhmm,” to accompany it. With his head lying on his arm the movement messes up his hair, causing disarray to the usually perfectly sculpted structure he usually has on his head. But despite the nod, Luke doesn’t make an attempt to sit up at all.

Michael glances to his left and sees two of their own personal security just outside of the van waiting for him and he can see their patience is dwindling. They don’t tell him to hurry up, not in words, but their eyes scream it. He can tell by the way their glances are going back and forth between Luke and him and then at each other. And then Michael looks over them and at the two men who must be hotel security waiting by the door, peering out at van with confused looks on their faces, clearly wondering what the hold up is. Ashton and Calum, however, are no where to be found. Michael suspects they got their room keys and were escorted upstairs to their room by now.

Seeing as it didn’t seem like Luke was going to wake up fully any time soon Michael moves himself into the little space left on the seat ahead of Luke and says, “Alright, Luke, time to go inside.”

Michael grabs Luke’s wrists and pulls at them until Luke’s arms are slung over his shoulders. Luke groans, pushes his head into the back of Michael’s neck, and then groans again. Their security watches with raised eyebrows as Michael interlocks his fingers with Luke’s to keep him secure before he reaches back blindly for Luke’s legs. He whispers sympathetically, “I know, I know,” and “I’m sorry,” whenever Luke makes a sound, but is thankful when Luke grabs the front of his shirt instinctually.

“Put your arm like this,” Michael instructs to Luke who, despite all the movement, is only barely awake. Michael hooks Luke’s left arm across his chest, then shrugs Luke’s body up higher on his back until he gets a good enough grip around the underside of Luke’s thighs to hold him up steadily. He figures this would be best just in case Luke lets go, he’ll still have all his weight pulling him forward, making it less likely he’ll fall. Or at least Michael hopes.

He feels Luke relax against him, breathing out heavily once before his breathing becomes slow enough to tell Michael he’s slipped back into unconsciousness. Then he feels Luke’s head sliding against the back of his own until it rests against the space where his neck and his shoulder connects. Michael takes another look at their security with a weary smile and then says to Luke, “Keep your head down, okay?” as he begins to stand up, although he’s almost positive Luke’s too far gone in his sleep to hear him.

Michael stands up slowly, trying to look back to see how close Luke’s head is to the top of the van, and doesn’t stand completely up until he hears the security say, “He’s good,” and pull on Michael’s arm. He gestures for Michael to walk straight toward the open doors of the hotel, like he was going to walk anywhere else with an over 6 foot teenager on his back, and closes the van doors behind them.

“Do you want me to take him?” their security asks, already reaching for Luke’s arm and trying to unwrap it from around Michael’s chest.

Instantly, Michael shakes his head. He pulls away a little, readjusting his hold on Luke. He says back briskly, “No, I got’em.”

The smiles from the security and the workers are questioning but welcoming, so Michael smiles back and forces out a “Hello,” and a “Thank you,” whenever he can. They all gaze at Luke for a while, trying to figure out just what he’s doing on Michael’s back, but Michael thinks it’s none of their damn business so he walks a little quicker, giving them less time to gawk. Michael’s stopped after a few steps by a woman much smaller than him with two bags in her hand that he immediately recognizes as his and Luke’s.

After shifting Luke’s weight a little more onto his right arm, Michael takes the bags from her with a “Thanks,” and a small smile. She smiles back but it turns a little sour when she looks up at Luke on his back. There’s a look in her eyes that says something like “What’s wrong with him?” or maybe “Can’t he walk himself?”, and it all seems a little too judgemental for Michael’s liking. More than anything she’s just confused, Michael’s sure, so he tries to walk away without rolling his eyes.

He doesn’t know why but all the staring makes him hold onto Luke tighter as he takes him to the elevator. Michael gets that feeling inside his chest and his stomach like he does when he’s feeling protective, but still, he’s not sure why. Neither of them are in any danger and the people have been nothing but kind since he’s walked in. He thinks maybe all the staring is just rubbing him the wrong way because Luke is completely vulnerable right now and defenseless to all the glares he’s getting for being carried up to their hotel room. The way they’re looking at Luke questioningly, who’s slung over Michael’s back with his arm and feet swaying limply with the movement, like what they’re doing is completely deviant and somehow disruptive.

Gently, he moves his head so it rubs against Luke’s for a moment as he tells him softly, “Almost there, Lukey,” in a voice only loud enough for Luke to hear if he was awake to actually hear it.

The elevator dings and the door slides open. Michael’s thankful when there’s no one else in the elevator as he steps in. A few feet away he sees one of their security guards begin to jog toward the elevator when he spots them already in it. Michael waves his hand at him dismissively, trying to tell him he doesn’t have to come up with them. Michael knows they’re just trying to keep them all safe, but sometimes it feels like a weird spin-off of babysitting and it does annoy him sometimes. If Michael can’t take himself and Luke up to their room and safely place both of them in it without security, then shit, he must not be able to do anything. So instead of pressing the hold button to wait for their security, he lets it shut.

“We’re on the fourth floor,” Michael says to Luke although Luke’s slow, even breathing is his only response. “We’ll be there soon. And Ash and Cal are next door.”

He knows it’s kind of dumb to keep talking to Luke like this, but he figures it’d be better if Luke happened to wake up and immediately hears his voice than for him to wake up to silence and be confused as to why he’s being carried and to where-- especially if he doesn’t recognize Michael right away. At least he knows Michael’s voice. At least he’d know he’s safe.

The number four illuminates and the elevator dings again, this time telling Michael they’ve arrived. Luckily, their room is only a few doors down from the elevator and it doesn’t take him long to get to it and open the door. With his shoulder, he slides it against the wall blindly until he find the light switch.

Inside is nothing special. Just two beds, two desks, a night stand and a television. Michael’s learned that after a while all the hotel rooms start to look the same. Usually the same neutral wall color and the same horrible pattern on the bed sheets, and the same beige rug on the ground. Same room, different place most of the time. He finds that comforting somehow, and then he finds it a little scary that he finds that comforting. He tries not to dwell on it.

After they enter the main area Michael drops the bags and takes Luke to the bed farthest from the door. Gently, he sits down and then leans Luke backward until he’s resting on the pillow. Luke makes a little sound, like a huff, and presses his face into the pillow when Michael lifts his legs onto the bed. Michael watches his fingers curl into the fabric a little, a distressed expression appearing on his face and then disappearing just as quickly. Michael’s eyebrows scrunch a little, confused. Maybe he’s dreaming, Michael thinks.

For a moment or two Michael debates whether or not he should bother with getting Luke changed. More than anything he just doesn’t want to wake him up. He figures if he’s stayed asleep throughout this whole time he must be really exhausted, so waking him up enough to get him to move would probably only be more of a hassle for both of them. But then Michael considers that Luke’s still on top of the blankets and it’d probably be best for him to be under them, especially with the hotel air conditioning blowing like it is. Either way, Michael concludes, he’d have to move Luke again. Sort of a lose-lose situation for both of them.

He looks down at Luke, then over at his bag that has his sleeping clothes in it, and then back at Luke again. With a sigh and a small smile he says, “You’re lucky I love you,” before retrieving Luke’s bag. Quickly, he rummages past Luke’s laptop, his various bracelets, and other miscellaneous items before grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the mess.

Taking off Luke’s shoes was easy, but Michael knew it would be, so he does that first. He knows everything after that would be the challenge. Once he’s got Luke stripped of his Converse he takes a seat near the top of Luke’s bed. Gently, he runs his hand through Luke’s hair in a way he hopes is soothing enough not to scare him but forceful enough to wake him up a little. His thumb is still stroking over Luke’s temple when he calls out, “Luke,” and then a moment later, a little softer, “Lukey.”

Luke makes a sound, a weak “Hmm?” in response to hearing his name, but nothing much more. Michael moves his fingers again, tugging playfully at the lock of hair he had in his hand. He calls Luke again, and then one more time before Luke tries to sit up on his own. His voice is shakey when he moans out, “I’m tired.”

“I know, but lets just get this off, okay? Then you can sleep,” Michael says lightly as he pulls at the end of Luke’s shirt. He says encouragingly, “C’mon, sit up.”

And Luke does, which is sort of surprising to Michael, but he doesn’t question it. His eyes stay closed, however, and he leans into Michael strongly for support. He lifts his arm when he feels Michael trying to pull his shirt over his head, and makes a whining type of sound at the effort it takes. After just one arm out of his shirt and it hanging sort of ridiculously around his neck and still around his other arm, Luke leans his head against Michael’s and mumbles again, “‘m tired.”

He says it like a plea, like if he tells Michael over and over again how much he’s barely holding on, maybe Michael will stop moving him. Because right now all he wants to do is stop moving. Honestly, he wants it more than anything.

“I know Lukey, but just one more arm though the shirt, alright?” Michael says back sympathetically. He feels bad for Luke when he’s like this because he knows it’s just the result of him having to work a little harder than the rest of them.

And Michael’s not trying to discredit the hours he personally puts into his guitar solos and his verses, or the weight Calum has to pull both on and off the stage to keep everything balanced, or the fact that without Ashton they’d literally be nothing. But it’s no secret that there’s always a little more expected out of Luke with him being considered the front-man of the band and the lead singer. He gets the most attention without asking for it, and as a result, feels the most pressure most of the time. And on stage is no different. He’s always the one with the special placement, the one who goes to the very end of the catwalk during the beginning of Long Way Home, the one who introduces them when they play live, and the one who thanks the crowd before they play their last song. All of that paired with the fact that he sings at least a verse and all of the chorus on every song; and when he’s not singing lead, he’s singing back-up. Michael just knows it’s a lot to keep up with, and sometimes the whirlwind of it all catches up to Luke and completely drains him.

Groaning, Luke pulls his other arm through the opening in his shirt and lets Michael pull it over his head. Without a word, Michael lets him lay back down. He fidgets a little when Michael tugs the sheet down far enough to lift it from under Luke and then resettles when the movement stops.

“Last part, I promise,” Michael tells him tenderly as he undoes Luke’s belt. He reconsiders putting the sweatpants on him because it’d basically be like doing this part twice, which is, in Michael’s opinion, too much trouble. So he mentally settles on getting Luke out of his jeans and leaving it at that.

It’s not as hard as he anticipated considering he only had to say, “Up,” a couple times until Luke comprehended and lifted his hips enough for Michael to pull them down his legs. Swiftly, Michael tosses Luke’s jeans to the side and pulls the blanket over him before the cold air of the hotel becomes too much. He pets the side of Luke’s hair again, sort of apologetically as he watches Luke’s head lull on the pillow as sleep reclaims him again.

“You can sleep now,” Michael tells him with a few more strokes of his fingers through Luke’s hair before standing up and heading to the bathroom. He makes sure to hit the main light before closing himself off in the bathroom.

Quickly he showers, just trying to get the sweat and exhaustion of tonight’s show off of his skin, before drying off and throwing on the sweatpants he originally brought out for Luke and a black tank top. He’s as quiet as possible as he hangs the towels back up, tosses his dirty clothes into his open bag, and turns off the light from the bathroom, hoping the brightness of it doesn’t wake Luke.

He’s light on his feet as he makes his way to the bed designated for him and he’s just about to crawl into it when he hears a quiet, “Michael?” from the bed beside him.

Michael smiles, he can’t help it. He says back, “Yeah it’s me. It’s okay,” and then after a few seconds of silence, “I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“Me too,” Luke agrees, his voice deeper than usual, sort of muffled with the way he’s laying on his pillow, and the drag to his voice lets Michael know he’s still not fully alert. Michael can hear the sleep in his voice trying to take over. Michael knows he wasn’t in the bathroom long at all, but it still must’ve taken a lot for Luke to keep himself awake that long.

Luke says laggardly, “Wanted to say goodnight,” and then after a bit of a pause, like an afterthought, “...and thank you.”

Michael smiles again, shaking his head as he says, “You coulda said thank you in the morning.”

A couple of seconds pass before Luke’s disregarding his statement and asking with his words slurring a little, “Mikey, will you lay with me?”

He sounds small. Like right now he’s eight and not eighteen. Something about the pleading undertone to the way he asked, something about the way he drew out 'Mikey' to 'Miii-keeeey'-- suddenly two elongated syllables, something about the way Michael barely caught sight of Luke reaching his hand out in his direction. Not that he was going to say no, but Michael couldn’t even if he wanted to. Michael vacates his bed, walks around to the other side of Luke’s, and lays next to him.

Immediately, Luke rolls over so he and Michael are facing each other. Luke ducks his head a little and leans forward so he can get comfortable in Michael’s arms. He grabs the front of Michael’s shirt just to keep him close as Michael properly puts an arm around his midsection. Slowly, Michael’s hand rubs his back and it feels like it’s pulling him back to slumber with each touch. Luke’s breath is a steady brush of wind on Michael’s neck that’s evening out more and more by the second.

“G’night, Luke,” Michael whispers, his eyes finally starting to feel heavy too. He pulls Luke a little closer, his nose being ticked a little by Luke’s hair. He doesn’t mind though, he likes having him this close. He likes being able to smell the product he puts in his hair and the faint, lingering smell of his deodorant even after a show. Luke always smelled good, no matter what.

Michael lets his hand slide up Luke’s back and into his hair. Slowly, he slides his fingers through the soft strands.

Luke doesn’t answer, but Michael didn’t really expect him to. Michael can tell he’s already asleep in his arms, snoring just slightly. He feels Luke’s hold in his shirt loosen as his body relaxes completely against him. They’ve always been more comfortable in the same bed, and Michael thinks this time they’ll both sleep for the rest of the night. No more interruptions.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! feedback is cool :)  
> come say hey on [tumblr](http://unofficialrockstar.tumblr.com/) if you wanna!


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